Playing with Fire
by Poetic Mystery
Summary: Ryou is a lonely teen with an absent father and an obsession with the occult. Will he unleash the power of ancient spirits? Just how far will he go to fill the void? Rated M for later chapters. Might be gore, most likely some eventual boy love. Tender/Gemshipping, Deathshipping if I can figure out a way to naturally write this in. Which ships will sail?
1. Awakening

_Tick, tick, tick, tick_ …

The soft ticking of the clock echoed through the house in solemn protest of the insistent silence. A pale, thin boy sat on the cold concrete floor of the basement. It was here, cradled just beneath the earth's surface, that his knees pressed against the rough surface; his hands scraping against chalk outlines that he had carefully etched into the ground. Hands shifted, careful not to smudge the white powder that formed ancient symbols beneath his body. He could already see the powder forming on his jeans, tainting his work. Perhaps a change of wardrobe for the next session would be in order.

Dark brown eyes shifted back and forth from the flickering candles that sat perched upon five points of an inverted star. It was meant to represent grounded energy, but years of conflicting mythology made Ryou question its true meaning. His chest rose, his lungs filling slowly, deeply. He was almost afraid to let out the breath of air, lest he break the tension that was building in the room. The tension was built upon a crushing loneliness gutted him to the core. He was alone, so desperately alone. He felt bitter at the thought of his father abandoning him on another expedition. At first, he would comfort himself by writing letters to his late sister until his fingers would crack and bleed from the miniscule papercuts that always found a way to mar his pallid flesh. He wrote until he could no longer feel the pen in his hand. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

Slowly, very slowly, he reached for the familiar board. It was lightweight, but felt heavy in his hands. It held all the meaning in the world to him. He took a moment to admire the intricate patterns etched into wood that had been worn down from years of use. Swirling patterns of branches, once vibrant in color, curled along the sides of the board in seemingly endless tendrils that captivated Ryou's gaze. His body felt as though it were an empty shell, moving, but with a will of its own. It was almost as though he was absent from his body, and could somehow watch the scene unfold before him. He was mystified. It hadn't even occurred to him that the board was now nestled toward the center of his pentagram. He lifted the glass planchette, peeking through the hole in the center. In his occult books, he had read that staring through the planchette could allow him to see through to the other side. The realm where spirits and otherworldly beings existed.

 _Tick, tick, tick, tick…_

There was energy about the room, a feeling that Ryou thrived upon. The ticking from the clocked boomed in his hypersensitive ears, the only thing grounding him to reality. If it weren't for the sound, he felt like he would float away into the abyss. There was a part of him didn't believe. That part of him thought that he looked rather silly, kneeling in a dark, cold basement, looking through a child's toy. But he didn't care. Who was going to judge him, honestly? He was alone. If nothing else, it was a distraction to ebb away the intrusive thoughts of his meager mortality that plagued him when he was alone like this. And if it was real, then what did he really have to lose?

He stared at the center candle one last time, watching the flame dance back and forth. The flame was contained, but held power of both warmth and destruction. One simple flame could light his way, but just as quickly steal the light away from him. He always did like fire for that very reason. He himself felt like water, always adrift in a sea of disassociation. How badly he wanted to feel like fire. To harness that destructive, yet beautiful nature.

A sigh finally escaped his lips. How long had he been holding his breath? Was he even breathing? He was excited. This was taboo, it was thrilling. There was a hint of danger in the air. The validity of that danger was boundless, feeding off of his imagination. His fingers were shaking, as he guided the planchette to the board, circling the letters three times, to get a good motion started.

"Ouija, are you there?" he questioned, letting his fingers almost hover above the planchette. His touch was so delicate, he wondered if the piece would even move. He waited, there was no response.

"Ouija, are you there?" he repeated, his voice felt breathy. His throat was suddenly feeling rather dry. There was a tug beneath his fingertips. The planchette guided his hand slowly, but steadily, toward the yes that sat beneath a smiling sun etched into the board. A breathy staccato laugh escaped pale lips. He shifted his position, to better reach the board without applying too much pressure to the planchette. His tongue darted out to wet his lips before the boy spoke again. He went to speak, but his throat was suddenly wet and constricted. Ryou cleared his throat lightly, not wanting to disturb the energy of the room.

"Amane, are you there?" he asked, anxiously waiting for a reply. For a moment, he thought that the first movement had been a fluke, until he felt the familiar pull beneath his fingers once again. It circled firmly around the ' _yes_ ' symbol. A smile spread across his features like wildfire. He wanted to believe. He so desperately wanted to believe.

"How are you doing, Amane?" he asked, hoping that the question wasn't too complex. There was no pause this time, as the planchette danced along the board.

 _I_

…

 _A…M… … L…O…S…T…_

White eyebrows furrowed as the letters formed words, deciphering the spacing through small pauses. The planchette returned to the center of the board. The smile left his lips, as confusion began to grab ahold of his psyche. "Lost?" he repeated, trying to think of a way to respond to that statement. As he was lost in thought, the planchette twitched beneath his fingertips once more.

 _H…E…L…P… … M…E…_

 _H…E…L…P… …M…E…_

 _H…E…L…P… …M…E…_

The phrase repeated three times. Each time, the planchette moved with a greater intensity, to the point where Ryou wasn't even sure if he was touching the glass or not. Then, the planchette began to swoop down from one side, and then the other. It took a moment for Ryou to notice, but it was repeating the infinity sign, and he had to use physical pressure to stop the planchette from moving.

"Please, stop!" he cried out, uncertain if the warnings he had read about the Ouija board had been true or not. "Amane, how can I help you?" His question was laden with apprehension. He was uncertain about the situation he was in. Was it just his imagination getting the best of him? Perhaps he really was that lonely. He was pried from his thoughts once more, as the glass pointer moved forcefully across the board.

 _R…E…L…E…A…S…E… …. …M…E…_

The words were difficult to make out, due to the amount of letters that jumbled in the whitenette's mind. "Release me?" he questioned, and the planchette shot up to the _yes_ symbol.

"Is this really Amane?" The pointer circled around _yes_ three times, as if to reassure him that it was his sister who had long perished. The pointer then began to dance a figure eight on the board once again, and Ryou was having difficulty holding the planchette still. The room felt cold, colder than it had when he first set everything up. Despite the chill that seeped through the walls, a fresh sweat had broken out into beads of sweat that dotted Ryou's forehead. His hair felt damp, and his shirt was beginning to feel too clingy. But he felt alive. The thrill kept him going.

"Release you from where, Amane?" he wasn't sure if he was talking to his sister. But if he was, and he didn't help her, he would never forgive himself. He was always there to protect her when they were younger. But he wasn't able to protect her from death. Perhaps he could be her protector in death. The glass pointer began to move, with less intensity, as if to display sorrow.

 _S…H…A…D…O…W…S…_

There was an eerie pause, and the room felt thick. The energy was suffocating, and the flames on the candles were dancing wildly, tossed around by an intangible wind. There was a sinking feeling in his gut that he couldn't seem to shake, but he ignored it and watched the planchette dance its figure eight once again. What would happen if he let it? He stayed quiet, watching the pointer move back and forth. Back, and forth. Then, the pointer decided to move to the bottom edge of the board where the numbers had been etched.

 _9…8…7…_

Ryou watched, mesmerized. He didn't know what the board was doing. He didn't know if it was him that was willing the planchette, or if it was Amane, or another being from a realm not well understood.

 _6…5…4…_

The countdown was making him feel giddy for some reason. Was it a hidden desire within him? Was it his imagination? Or was there a terrible evil that was trying to get him to allow it into his basement. He let out a staccato chuckle. It was a nervous laugh. A laugh that was on the brink of sanity.

 _3…2…1…_

…

 _0_

He felt the energy leave the planchette. It was as though a physical weight had disappeared beneath his fingers, which suddenly felt empty. He paused, waiting for the pointer to move again on its own, as it had done the entire night.

"Ouija, are you there?" he queried. He felt small all of the sudden, but lonely is not the word he would use. No. It felt as though there was someone with him. Was this what insanity's door felt like? His breath hitched in his throat, and he laughed again, to fill the silence. The clock had stopped ticking. Its sound no longer filled the room with its booming steadiness.

"Ouija, are you there?" his questioning felt useless. The magic was gone. The spell was broken. There was nothing left but a strange boy sitting in his basement with a makeshift summoning circle and a child's toy. He sighed, picking up the planchette, and leaning over to blow out the candles. It was late, he wasn't sure how long he had been down there, but he felt the sting of his eyelids when he blinked. He stood up, sharp jolts of pain running down his legs in protest for not stretching them out for such a long time. The boy stretched his arms above his head, letting out a loud yawn. His eyes darted around the room nervously, he was feeling superstitious.

He lifted the glass pointer to his eye, gazing though the hole as he turned around in the basement. It was comforting to him that he wasn't met with a demonic hell beast bent on destroying his very existence. "See, nothing to worry about," he consoled himself, walking around the basement with the planchette near his eye. For a moment, he thought he saw a shadow dart behind the stairs, but it was gone just as soon as his thoughts could question it. He shrugged it off and decided to go upstairs for the night. He shut the light off, without turning around, and locked the door to the basement behind him…just in case. Ghosts can't go through locked doors, right? That would be silly.

He sluggishly walked to his room, disrobing as soon as he hit the door, throwing the clothes that still retained his body heat into the hamper that nestled up against a dresser. He had broken out into a sweat down in the basement, and wanted to change clothes before he went to bed. He thought about taking a shower, but still felt uneasy about the situation. He decided that he would wait until morning, as if the sun would chase away all the things that scared him. As an added precaution, he decided to leave the light on, as he crawled into bed. His pajamas were baggy, but soft, and gave him an extra sense of comfort. The boy yawned once more, and clutched a tattered, off-white bear to his chest. It had been Amane's favorite toy when she was alive. If she was with him now, Ryou reasoned, this is how he could hug her. His head hit the pillow, and the room spun around him a bit. He hadn't recalled feeling so dizzy. He was still clutching the planchette in his right hand, and he raised the glass for one last peek before drifting off to dreamland. Bleary chocolate eyes briefly met with fiery crimson, but before he could even react fearfully, the world around him faded to black.

 _Yadounushi_.


	2. A New Friend

Swirling shadows suffocated his mind, strangling his every thought. His mind felt murky, mottled. A feeling of pure dread overtook him as he tried to sit up in his bed. He wanted to flinch, wanted to move his limbs, but it was as though an invisible force was holding him against his will. His sanctuary felt tainted. He couldn't feel the softness of the bear that he had held close when sleep had taken him.

Whispers penetrated the deafening silence, but he could not understand the words. It sounded ancient and foreign to him, a voice that he wasn't sure if he could hear, or if it were telepathic. He let out a silent scream, but it did not escape his lips. No. It resonated in his mind, but took on no sound. He could feel the vibrations that should have rang boisterous and shrill. Trapped inside his body, inside his mind, he felt an invisible force lifting him higher, and higher…

 _STOP_

The word rang out in his mind in the same voiceless manner as the plaguing whispers that echoed around him. The panic bore into him, filling him with a tingling numbness that made him feel weak and formless. He felt like he was dissipating, disappearing into the shadows that were suddenly encompassing him.

A scream, sharp and unforgiving, pierced through the darkness as he flew up from his unseen prison. He continued to scream, ripping the bedsheets from his body and stumbling to the door, his hands were trembling so violently that he could not turn the doorknob. His body felt damp, and he knew that he had broken out into a sweat again. "Come on, come on," he begged to himself, his voice breathy and afraid. His hands wrapped around the cool metal, turning it back and forth in his grasp. The door wouldn't open.

Ryou tried to calm himself, tried to reason that he was just scared from a nightmare. That's right, it was just a nightmare. He opened his eyes, which had been screwed shut while he reasoned with his own mind. A realization dawned on him. The room was dark. He had fallen asleep with the light on, he was sure of it. Reaching for the switch, he flipped it on. Nothing. He flipped it again, rapidly flicking the switch up and down. There was no light. He felt his stomach drop, and the prickling numbness spread from spine down into his limbs. "Maybe the power's out," he spoke aloud, trying to distract himself from the situation. He tried the door handle once more. There was a clicking noise, as though the door was locked. But the doorknob didn't have a lock on it.

The small boy backed away from the door slowly, stumbling in the dark until he felt the backs of his legs hit his bed. The sheets were in a mess, tangled onto the floor. He could barely see a thing, his eyes unable to adjust to the almost unnatural darkness that surrounded him. The whitenette balled his hands into fists, clenched tightly at his sides. "JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" he shouted into the emptiness. Was he insane? There was nothing there with him, there couldn't be. Frantically, he began to pat down his body, searching for the planchette that he had gone to bed with. He dropped to his knees, feeling around the comforter that was now stretched along the floor. He scrambled around, clumsily patting down the surface until he felt a small prick from the pointed end of the glass.

A quick sigh of relief graced his lips as he picked up the glass pointer, lifting it to his dominant eye. He spun around the room, looking through the planchette, searching for something to validate in his mind that he was not going crazy. He froze, rigid and stiff. The hair on the back of his neck rose on end, and goosebumps littered his pale skin. A freezing touch brushed against both sides of his face, tickling his hair as he watched the locks lift up on their own. It felt like there was somebody standing behind him, and what should have been warm breath upon his left cheek felt like an arctic breeze. He dared not turn around, and he stood, staring straight at the wall with the planchette still glued to his eye. His breathing halted, caught in his throat.

 _Yadounushi_

The word echoed in his mind, and it made him feel dizzy. He felt his body growing colder, seeping slowly into his back. Ryou shivered violently and let out a shout, leaping forward with great ferocity. "STOP IT!" he screamed into the darkness, his knees buckling beneath him. He held the planchette as though it was a weapon that could defend him from the unknown presence as he backed himself up against a wall. "Stay away!"

The glass pointer found its way back to his eye, as he peered through it. When deep earthy orbs met cold, yet fiery crimson, the planchette fell from his fingers. His eyes widened, and he braced himself against the wall, another scream ripping from his throat. He felt trapped, like a rabbit being hunted by a wolf, calculating and dangerous. He quickly turned his head to the door and then his body followed suit, bolting for safety. His hands grasped the handle once again, but to no avail. Cold, invisible hands wrapped around his head once again.

A hysterical laugh ruptured through the boy's throat. He was trapped. What did it want? Who was it? What was it? He wasn't sure if he wanted to wait around to find out. His eyes met with the window, and he ran for it, throwing his arms out in front of his body, using his weight to open it. Except, it was bolted shut by the same force that had locked his door. A deep frown marred his pretty face and he spun around the room once again, his planchette was on the other side of the bed.

 _Yadounushi_

That formless voice was in his head, louder than before. The voice was deep and velvety, but dripping with poison. ' _Forget the wolf idea, I feel like I'm being hunted by a snake.."_ he thought to himself. No sooner did he finish that thought than he heard a cruel, wicked laugh. The being was close. Adrenaline filled his body, as his body's fight or flight system activated. He ran to the wall directly across from the window, and turned to face the window, taking a deep, purposeful breath. He ducked his head and crossed his arms in front of his face. He forced himself not to scream as he began to run, full force at his only escape. He heard the crash before he felt it. Glass shards sparkled against the night sky, flying outward along with his body. The glass stuck to his hair, and left gashes in his arms both shallow and deep. Pieces of the glass embedded into his cheeks and his clothing. His body fell against the ground with a loud thump, digging the glass into his flesh further.

"AHn" he grunted, letting out a harsh breath. His eyes were blurry, and it hurt to move his head. The laughing continued, surrounding him from every direction. He whimpered, trying to grasp his bearings, skittering along the ground pathetically. He hadn't noticed the tears streaming down his face until he tried to suck in another breath, only to find that his nose was congested. He let out a watery cough, rising to his feet quickly, yet wobbly. He was limping, desperately trying to get away.

 _You belong to me._

That sentence made his heart stop and his blood freeze in his veins. He didn't have to turn around, because the otherworldly being was everywhere. He couldn't pinpoint the exact direction, so he just assumed he was everywhere at once. "Wh-who are you?" the voice left his lips, but it felt foreign, and his brows furrowed.

 _Your new_ _ **friend**_ _._

The words came out threatening, intimidating. No. This isn't what he wanted. This isn't how he pictured it. He opened his eyes once again, forcing his body to move forward. He saw a light flicker on across the street. One of his neighbors was awake. Newfound hope filled him as he started toward the house, "Help me! Please help me, I've been attacked!" he shouted, waving his arms around. Well, he hadn't really been attacked yet, but he was bleeding from the self-inflicted wounds that he gifted himself by jumping through a window. He assumed the neighbor would lock his doors if he told him that an invisible assailant was chasing him, so he kept that on the down-low.

The door swung open, as an older gentleman still dressed in his pajamas came running out to see what all the commotion was about. "What's going on?" he looked angry, but concerned, looking around to see if the attacker was still nearby. Ryou felt the energy begin to fade from his body, and he stumbled forward, the world spinning around him. The gruff man stooped forward, pulling an arm around Ryou to help balance the boy. He was friends with the boy's father, and knew about Ryou through acquaintance. "We need to get you to a hospital."

Those were the last words that he heard before the world went black. He was trapped in his mind again, but he didn't feel alone. He couldn't feel his body being transported in the ambulance, or when they placed him in the hospital bed. The noises and bustling of the busy hospital fell upon deaf ears. He observed the darkness, feeling lost in the abyss. His own thoughts were jumbled and incoherent. In the darkness, however, he could still hear the faint laughter from before.

 _Send my regards to your father, yadounushi._


	3. Through Shadows

I honestly wrote this chapter three times, each one going in a different direction of /how/ Akefia/Spirit of the Ring/Yami Bakura was reaching out to Ryou so easily. I decided on this one, so I hope you like it!

Due to the mysterious nature of Ryou's father, I've taken some artistic liberties for this chapter. I've named him Katsuro Bakura because for the life of me I could not find his first name anywhere. This is an AU, so I'm also taking things differently than the manga/tv show. There will be many similarities though. Stay tuned~

* * *

The trip began in the blazing sands of Egypt, where Ryou's father, Katsuro Bakura slaved under the hot sun, searching for relics to bring back the Domino City Museum. He was a man in his early forties, with stark white hair that he tied back in a messy ponytail to keep the hair off the back of his neck. Gloved hands dug carefully through gritty dirt, which smeared across Katsuro's face as he wiped the sweat from his brow. His glasses had become speckled with sand particles, but he continued on. Something was pulling him toward this very spot, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

"Hand me that trowel," he spoke to his expedition partner. The man was tanned, native to the region, with dark black hair and stubble that decorated his chin. He appeared to be ten years the elder Bakura's junior.

"Sure thing!" the man called back, leaning forward to lightly toss the trowel in Katsuro's direction. He knelt in front of where his partner was digging, scooping the dirt away from the dig site.

"I see something," Katsuro called out, excitement filling his voice with glee. He pulled a small brush from his belt to flick away the dirt in a gentler manner. The object glinted in the light of the sun once the dirt had fallen away. It was unnaturally clean, despite having been buried underneath the earth. "Help me get this out."

The tanned male used his own trowel to gingerly dig around the object. They quickly discovered its circumference, and scooped the earth away from the golden item. Katsuro placed his hands along either side of the relic, lifting it in front of him, eyes widened in awe of its beauty. It was a golden ring, with a triangle that lay in the center. Etched into the center of the triangle was the eye similar to that of the Eye of Horus. He ran his fingers along the outside of the ring, noticing the five golden spikes that jutted from the bottom and sides of the ring. It was breathtaking.

Katsuro flipped the ring over, to inspect the back, noticing specks of dried copper. His eyebrows furrowed, as he rubbed the substance. It flaked off, cascading down to the dirt below. "Must be some sort of red clay," he muttered, using a microfiber cloth to further remove the contaminant. In reality, the substance had been dried blood from the last unlucky individual who had tried to wear the ring around his neck. The ring had been buried in a panicked frenzy before it took the life of the unsuspecting victim years ago.

"Thank you Kafele, I should get this back to the camp. I have some preparations to make before my flight tomorrow," the man spoke as he stood, completely mesmerized by the ring. There was a mild resonation that made his fingers tingle. He would need to take it back to the museum to have tests done on the item in order to determine the age of the relic. Kafele stood beside Katsuro, taking in the beauty of the item before turning to pack up their belongings. "Don't worry about it. You said you had a hunch about this place, and I trusted you. Looks like that trust was well placed, friend." When Kafele spoke, his voice was lighthearted and warm. The kindness in his words was infectious, causing the elder Bakura to grin.

The two of them had met through work, but had formed a close friendship throughout the years of working together. Kafele had even introduced Katsuro to his current fiancée, something the older man had yet to tell his son. The sun had reached its peak in the sky by the time the men had finished packing. They had begun in the morning, hoping to beat the heat of the desert sun, but the dig took longer than expected.

"Hey, let's go out to dinner tonight after I get this all set up. I'd like to spend the night with you and Kiya before I have to head back to Japan for a few weeks." Katsuro lifted two bags up over his shoulder. He had wrapped the ring in a protective cloth before placing it snuggly into one of his bags so that he could easily transport the item without causing damage. Kafele let out a jubilant laugh, picking up the rest of the items, nodding his head. "Yes, of course! That sounds wonderful."

\\\\\\\\\

The plane ride was long, and tiring. Katsuro's plane had been delayed by several hours, causing his arrival to be later in the day than he had originally planned. The sun was starting to set when he arrived at the Domino City Museum. He had unpacked his array of relics, saving a special place for the golden ring that almost hummed in his hands. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something oddly alluring about the item itself, more so than any of the other items he had acquired on his expedition. Was it the gold content that made it so appealing? Katsuro let out a sigh, locking the item away in a secure case. He would return the next day to get to work on identifying and dating the relic.

The man glanced down at his watch. "Tch, it's far too late to surprise him today. I'll just go over there in the morning," he spoke aloud to himself, referring to his son, Ryou.

Ryou still lived in their old home, two hours outside of Domino City. Katsuro wasn't looking forward to returning to that place, but he wanted to surprise his son before the new school year began. He wished that he could have spent the summer with the teen, but he had been so busy with work and his new fiancée that he hadn't had the time to spend with Ryou. In place of his own guidance, he had asked his neighbor, and good friend, Fujioka to keep an eye on Ryou. He had initially wanted Ryou to move in with Fujioka and his wife, however, the teen outright refused to leave that house.

Every time Katsuro came to visit his son, it re-opened old wounds that had never healed correctly. Ryou looked very much like his late mother, and his father resented him for it. It wasn't rational, and he knew that, but it didn't stop those hurtful emotions from emerging. The house was widely untouched, and appeared the way it did before the accident. Amane's room was across from Ryou's, and everything was where she had left it the morning before she passed on to the next realm. Katsuro's old bedroom was a memorial of his dead wife. It pained him to return to that place.

The man sighed to himself, brushing his messy bangs out of his face and pinching the bridge of his nose to release the tension headache that was taking hold. He would have time to gather his emotions before morning. With that notion, Katsuro locked up his office and took a cab to a nearby hotel. He planned to take the train in the morning to get to his old city.

It was around 9:30 p.m. when Katsuro arrived at his hotel to check in. It was a small, humble room, but the bed was soft and there was a bathtub in the restroom. The man dropped off his belongings before gathering his keycard and wallet to take a brisk walk to the konbini he had seen on his way up to his hotel. There, he paid for several small boxes of sake, along with a bottle of plum wine before returning back to his room.

The sake box resembled a children's juice box, with a small hole to poke the plastic straw through. Katsuro sipped the alcohol that burned his tongue and warmed his throat as he paced the room, back and forth. It had been a long trip, and he was exhausted, but the anxiety that coursed through his veins was making him feel uneasy. He self-medicated with the alcohol, hoping that it would bring him enough relief that sleep would be able to steal him away for a few hours.

\\\\\\\

" _Ouija, are you there?"_

 _The words echoed through the ethereal realm, reaching like tendrils into time and space. Sitting in the Domino City Museum, the ring pulsed with rejuvenated power. A soft glow emitted from the golden relic, along with a high-pitched humming barely audible to human ears._

" _Ouija, are you there?"_

 _ **Yadounushi…**_ _The ghostly spirit of the ring whispered into the empty space. A projection of his earthly form rose from the case that the millennium item rest in. Crimson eyes examined the tendrils that approached him, reaching out a tanned, yet translucent hand out to touch the wisps. It was painful. He felt as though he was being ripped through space as the shadows surrounded him in a suffocating intensity._

 _The spirit shivered, a feeling of electricity washing over him. He stood, in total darkness, and peered forward where a beacon of light was penetrating through the shadows. He walked toward the light, glancing down. It was too bright to see through, and the light hurt his eyes a great deal. It was strange. He hadn't felt much of anything for centuries. This newfound pain made him both curious and anxious at the same time. The spirit frowned, kneeling before the small opening in the shadows, and tentatively placed his hand through the glowing space._

 _His fingers touched a smooth surface, which tugged him down into a more earthly realm. The shadows held onto his body, leaving the spirit hanging above the board beneath his fingers. Cautiously, the spirit moved the planchette to 'yes' in response to the voice which brought him there. A nervous laughter flitted around the room, but it sounded far away. The spirit let out a growl of frustration, tugging against the shadows that bound him in place._

 _He felt panicked and trapped, a feeling he had long forgotten from the days when he was alive. "Release me!" he shouted, but there was no response. He pounded his translucent fists against the tendrils wrapped around his waist, kicking his legs in the process. The shadows would not budge. The shadows began to pull him back into the darkness when he reached forward with all his might to place his fingers back on the planchette._

" _I…am lost," he spelt out his words as he spoke aloud, hoping that the person on the other side would sympathize with him. He could sense it in his core. The voice on the other side of the darkness was his incarnation, his host body. He frowned once more, furrowing his eyebrows as he spelt "Help me" over and over again._

 _The voice cried out for him to stop, but he had gotten the boy's attention. He needed him to invite him in. "Release me," he whispered, moving the planchette accordingly. The voice asked such trivial questions, which made the spirit impatient. With the boy's wariness, the shadows constricted the spirit tighter, trying to tug him away from the board in which he desperately clung to. He growled low in his throat and spelt "Shadows" for the boy to see. Perhaps it would make sense to him._

 _He waited for an answer, his eyes flitting across the board in silent desperation. That's when he noticed a faint glow coming from the numbers at the bottom of the board. Curious, the spirit traced his fingers, along with the planchette, across the numbers, starting from 9 and reaching back to 0._

 _Once his fingers brushed across the last number, there was a blinding light and burst of cold air that caused the shadows holding him to burst and dissipate in the air behind him. Instead of crashing down as he had anticipated, he merely floated to the ground, a being somewhere between worlds. He stood in his ethereal form, crimson eyes locked onto the young teen before him._

" _My host, I need you to listen to me," he spoke aloud. As the words left his lips, he noted that they fell upon deaf ears. The boy was still trying to contact him through the board despite the fact that he was standing right in front of him. He growled, stomping the ground to get his attention, but to no avail. The teen had risen from his place and was ascending the stairs. For a moment, it looked as though he had seen him, but he just kept walking._

 _The spirit let out an aggravated scream, swiping at the Ouija board on the ground. The board lifted from his force, but only moved a few inches away from where his hand had been. Crimson eyes narrowed as the spirit contemplated his ability. He was thinking about this all wrong. He didn't have a body anymore, and was not limited by the body's capabilities. Glancing down once more, he noticed symbols etched into the floor. They reminded him of the symbols the priests drew back in Egypt, but where would the teen have gotten such information? They were thousands of years old; surely it didn't make any sense. But he was going to find out, and he needed to figure out a way to possess the teen's body to retrieve his millennium item._

\\\\\\\

 _Ring-ring_

 _Ring-ring_

 _Ring-ring_

Katsuro groaned, groggy and confused. He snorted, breathing deeply and lifting his head up to glare at his cell phone. His hair had fallen out from the ponytail that it had been in, sticking to the side of his face where he had drooled in his sleep. The man had passed out, intoxicated, on his bed without so much as taking a shower or changing his clothing beforehand. "The hell?" he rasped, clumsily opening the flip phone to his ear. "Yes? Who is this?" he muttered. It was late at night, and a quick glance at the clock near the bed let Katsuro know that it was nearly 3:30 a.m.

"Katsuro? Oh thank goodness. You need to come quick, Ryou's been in an accident and he's at the hospital.." Fujioka rambled on the other end of the line. Upon hearing the sobering news, Katsuro shot up from the bed, panic washing over his body. He felt numb, dissociated. Those words stabbed him through the heart and made his head spin to the point where he couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or the anxiety.

"Oh my god.." he whispered, his voice barely audible. Years ago, he had received a similar phone call when his wife and daughter had been struck by another vehicle. He had rushed to the hospital to see them, but Amane had died at the scene, and his wife had fallen into a coma of which she never woke up from. Katsuro shakily grabbed his coat and his keys, rushing for the door to put his shoes on. "I'm coming. Tell Ryou, I'll be there. I just flew in tonight. I'll be there." And with that, he hung up the phone so that he could call a taxi to get him to Ryou as quickly as possible.

Fujioka had gone to speak, to question what time the other man had arrived, but the harsh tone of a dead line cut him off. He sighed, shaking his head as he hung up the phone. Katsuro never was good at telling other people his plans, which made it difficult to get in contact with him. Still, it was good news to hear that he was back in Japan at the moment, even if he hadn't notified anyone about his arrival. The man went to sit in the waiting room so that he could greet Katsuro when he arrived. Ryou was resting in his hospital bed, where doctors had diagnosed him with a mild concussion. The impact from the window had caused some shock to his body, and they wanted to check on his spine to make sure he hadn't caused any damage to his neck or spinal cord.


End file.
